


Underneath

by Cornflower_Corvid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Anxiety, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Mentioned Dorothea Arnault, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers for Yuri and Dorothea supports, yes I'm being mean to Yuri again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornflower_Corvid/pseuds/Cornflower_Corvid
Summary: Yuri tries to cope with having to perform in the opera at the children's festival, and the associated past he tried to bury.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Dorothea and Yuri's supports. Please read the tags.
> 
> Please enjoy :D

_Why? Why couldn’t she have just left well enough alone?_

Yuri rolled over for what felt like the tenth time that night, having woken up in a cold sweat. He didn’t have a complete vision of whatever he’d been dreaming about, which was probably for the better, but he knew it was related to _that_. 

He was dreading their practice session in a couple of days. He wanted to help, he did… but he didn’t want to spend a week not sleeping because of it. Yuri tried so hard to not think of… _those_ times. When he used to sing. When he needed money so badly, he almost didn’t care about the emotional scars left behind when they _touched_ him. His mind wasn’t going to banish the memories just because it had been a necessary sacrifice.

Yuri gave up eventually, swinging his legs over the side of his bed to get up. He had half a mind to owl Dorothea in the morning and tell her he couldn’t do it. He was fine with singing in a secluded nook to calm the children down, to help them go to sleep… but he resented her strong-arming him into performing for the children’s show, out in the open and with an audience. He didn’t need other people gawking at him when they realized how he sounded, how well he sang. Yes, he was fine with people staring because of his looks, or because they weren’t used to seeing a man wearing makeup, because those things were his mask. He used those things to keep people out. This… this hit too many nerves. Dorothea didn’t care how many walls he had up, she was willing to step over them and take him out of his comfort zone. 

Sitting down at his desk, he sighed, staring at his meticulously organized possessions: a box with his lip gloss and palettes of mascara and eye shadow in it, a couple of makeup brushes in a small cup, a quill, a small stack of parchment, a bottle of ink, his lockbox with his old notebook in it, a pair of gloves, and a small vase with some wilted flowers in it. On the occasions where his less savoury memories found their way out of the hole he buried them in, somewhere in the back of his mind, he found that it helped to focus on these things that he’d collected over the years… sometimes. It seemed this was going to be one of the times that it didn’t. 

He was definitely starting to get a headache. Fetching his waterskin from the shelf beside his desk, he took a quick swig and then recapped it, putting it back. There. At least now his mouth didn’t feel so dry. Maybe the headache was just from needing water, and not really from waking up every half an hour.

Maybe pacing the room would help. Just… get a little exercise. Tire his body out enough that his mind would have no choice but to let him sleep. 

She didn’t know better. She obviously didn’t do this maliciously. If she knew… but if she knew, not only would she never have pushed him into singing when he thought he made it very clear he had no intention of ever singing publicly again, she probably would also never look at him the same again. Who would? And that would be worse, wouldn’t it? He’d rather put up with a few sleepless nights, get this ordeal over with, and carry on as if nothing happened… better that than seeing pity on people’s faces, having them know how filthy he really was. 

Revealing the reasons why he never wanted to sing again was just not an option. Even if it meant that he would have to grin and bear it, that he would have to go through remembering what they did to him every night for the next week and every time he sang, he would just have to go through with it. 

Keep the mask up. Careful; don’t let anyone see what’s underneath. Don’t let them catch a glimpse of what’s going through your head. Don’t let them see the turmoil, the pain, of all those years, catching up to you. Whenever possible, don’t even feel it. Smile. Pretend nothing is wrong.

No. Even to pretend nothing is wrong acknowledges that there is. Something wrong. Don’t even acknowledge it. Don’t let them keep winning, all these years later. 

Don’t feel. Smile. Everything is fine.

Yuri moved back over to his bed, keeping his little mantra echoing in his head. _Don’t feel. Smile. Everything is fine._ Repeating it on loop, trying to convince himself it was true. Sliding under his sheets, he fluffed up his pillow, concentrating on those six words. _Don’t feel. Smile. Everything is fine._

When he was awoken again about an hour later by vague, foggy nightmares, the same kind as the whole rest of the night, he looked around the room, trying to calm himself by concentrating on things. The cobwebs on the ceiling. The chair at the desk. The doorknob. The feel of his hair against his neck. The warm tear tracks on his fa-

It was never going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> In case you're wondering about the implications here, and didn't catch them yourself when you watched their supports (assuming you did... if you didn't yet you probably shouldn't have read this), here are some relevant lines (emphasis mine):
> 
>  **C:**  
>  Dorothea: Rein it in, Yurikins. It's the opera, not the battlefield. **This isn't a life or death situation.**  
>  Yuri: Heh heh... Fair enough. **Sometimes I forget what's a real threat and what isn't.** But I must ask you never to bring up singing again. Not to me. Not if you want to keep things amicable between us.  
>  **(A/N: This pair of lines seems innocent and actually kind of odd when you first watch this support, but once you've seen the A support and go back to this one, you realize that he was literally having an anxious response - a fight-or-flight reaction - to the idea of singing in front of people)**
> 
>  **B:**  
>  Dorothea: It's healing nicely, but I'm not supposed to put too much weight on it.  
> Yuri: Ah, so that's why you've called me here. What do you need? Help with errands?  
> Dorothea: Not an errand. An opera.  
> Yuri: I see. **(A/N: he very quickly clams up here)**  
>  Dorothea: There's been some loose plans for a performance. Nothing professional, strictly volunteer. I signed up to take part as one of the main roles. And then this happened. The professor told me I should bow out, just to be on the safe side.  
> Yuri: Makes sense to stay off your feet while you heal. Meanwhile, you want me to fill your role, right?  
> Dorothea: Got it in one! I'm glad we're on the same page here.  
> Yuri: Surely someone else is up to the task. Professor Manuela for example... **(A/N: escape attempt 1)**  
>  Dorothea: Already tried. Trust me, I wouldn't ask unless I was desperate. I knew how much you'd hate the idea.  
> Yuri: **Aside from hating it,** I also wouldn't remotely sound like you do. **(A/N: escape attempt 2)**  
>  Dorothea: Oh, don't worry about that. Most of our audience won't be able to tell the difference. The crowd's going to be a bunch of down-on-their-luck children that the monastery's taken in. I'm only talking about a small festival in the plaza. We want to give them a good show, that's all. You have an idea of what they've been through. I thought you might want to pitch in.  
> Yuri: Mm-hmm... I hear your angle. Fine, fine, yes. I'll do it. 
> 
> **A:**  
>  Yuri: ... Oh, ladybird. Truth be told, when I see you, **it reminds me of my own self-loathing... of my past.**  
>  Dorothea: Huh. I didn't know you were carrying something like that.  
> Yuri: You rose up from your hardship and became the lead singer for a prestigious opera, all on your own. While I made my way through the world by licking the boots of wretched nobles, watching you on stage from the sidelines. It wasn't until recently that I felt a real sense of accomplishment in my life. But recalling that first pivotal moment when I saw you on stage... You were brilliant. You shone like nothing I'd ever seen. Whenever I see you, ladybird, I'm reminded of that moment. And in that moment, **I had never felt so filthy and unlovable in all my life.**  
>  Dorothea: That's why you don't like singing? There's got to be more to it than that.  
> Yuri: Back then, the Imperial capital was swarming with disgusting nobles, all of them vying for your attention- for the love of the Dorothea. Many were willing to compromise with an **inferior substitute**. **If they couldn't have you, perhaps someone else was capable of singing just as sweetly.**
> 
> Also recall in Cindered Shadows (mild spoilers here):
> 
> Yuri: ...There's not much you can do to me that hasn't already been done.  
> Aelfric: True. You took wing from the mud into which you were born and rose to such great heights. To break your spirit would take far too much effort.
> 
> I'm likely going to continue to explore Yuri's past in my writing. His trauma influences most of his interactions either directly or indirectly, and I find it interesting to consider the exact effects on his relationships with people. Introspection, awwwww yeah~~~


End file.
